Thursday, February 27, 2014

Last night I attended the FANGORIA screening of ALMOST HUMAN, a terrific indie shocker that proves conclusively that people who care to can work miracles on a shoestring budget. It's an homage to '80's-style splattery horror, fused with lashings of alien invasion tropes, gore provided via practical effects — lots of it and not a trace of CGI — INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS, alien abduction tropes, and a number of other influences, all used to pitch-perfect effect, and there's even a very rude bit of what could be considered R-rated tentacle porn. It comes out as a VOD on Friday via a number of sources and I strongly urge you to see it for yourself. If you're tired of the pussified bullshit that passes for horror in this sorry and largely-toothless era, I promise you will not be disappointed by ALMOST HUMAN. Check back here in a few days and I'll have a full review.

Oh, and my buddy Chuck Doherty is part of the cast! (No, he does not provide the aforementioned tentacle.)

Saturday, February 22, 2014

While perusing the morning news online, I was delighted to discover that today is the predicted date of Ragnarok, the Viking answer to the apocalypse, so while I put on my helmet and sharpen my sword for battle against unspeakable Nordic horrors, here's a little ditty in honor of this auspicious day!

I saw this trailer last night on the Jimmy Kimmel show and while I know it's too early to judge, well... I dunno. The use of Blue Swede's version of "Hooked On A Feeling" leaves me scratching my head...

Bob Casale, aka "Bob 2" of Devo — so dubbed to distinguish him from Bob Mothersbaugh, aka "Bob 1" — has passed on due to heart issues at the far-too-young age of 61. Anyone who knows me outside of the internet or who reads this blog regularly knows the high regard I have for Devo, so this comes as quite a blow.

Thank you, Bob, for all the great music you contributed to and for all the enjoyment and mental stimulation you helped bring to me during the many times I've needed it since first encountering Devo on that fateful SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE broadcast when I was just thirteen years of age. Rest well, spudboy.

Sunday, February 09, 2014

Little did I suspect that a Christmas gift would make me a target for the public's ire.

This past Christmas I received a Soviet military hat from my mom, an item that I loved because it fit my head perfectly and it looked great, what with its old school military iconography and such. I'd been wearing it in this cold-assed weather and it doesn't let a bit of the chill reach my head, so I was quite pleased. However, now that the Sochi Olympics are underway, people have been stopping me on the street to grill me about why I would wear such an item. To tell the truth, I honestly didn't think of it as anything other than an excellent winter hat, but just yesterday I was accosted on three separate occasions. The first time was when I stopped at a 7-11 in Manhattan for a bottle water and the Indian clerk stopped me to ask if I knew what I was wearing. I told him "yes," and then he asked if I knew it was a communist item, to which I also responded in the affirmative. (Note: I am not a communist.) He then asked me where I got it and I told him it was a Christmas gift from my mother, after which he requested to take my picture. (If you see my image being used for some sort of online protest, it was not my idea.)

Then, as I was making my way home on the subway, a panhandler with an accordion entered the car, saw my hat and asked if it was a Russian hat, to which I answered in the affirmative while thinking, "Motherfucker, you're at least sixty, so if you don't know what it is by now..." He looked appalled and asked me "Do you WANT to be Russian?" I responded with "No, I want to be WARM." The man then began playing a tune on his accordion and when he got off the train two stops later, one of the passengers, a guy who was very drunk for before 6pm, stared at me with undisguised hatred and stated (in a slurring Staten Island accent), "I fuckin' hate Russians! What they do to people over there... You like it so much, I hope you go there...FUCKER!!!" He then staggered off the train and nearly took a header as he left.

When I got home, I took the hammer & sickle ornament that came attached to the hat off and relegated it to one of my shelves for the time being. At no point did I ever consider that I was wearing something that would so set off random people, and, frankly, I'd rather avoid such confrontations altogether, so I'll have to find something else to adorn the hat in question. Just goes to show you how oblivious I can be sometimes.